


Uninvited

by cerozer0



Series: Did We Ever Have a Choice [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Jon doesnt like martin rn, Other, Pre-S1, Something aint right but if you ignore it itll be fine, who needs a degree to be an archivist not i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21912358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerozer0/pseuds/cerozer0
Summary: “Like any uncharted territoryI must seem greatly intriguingYou speak of my love likeYou have experienced love like mine before”━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Jon moves into his new office after being promoted to Head Archivist. Something isn’t right.
Series: Did We Ever Have a Choice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1578271
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	Uninvited

**Author's Note:**

> [THE PLAYLIST](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4kFZK3fRifXUdfEIzIBM8B?si=gvJKYHH7SreLKc_RHNSXuw)  
> ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
> 
> This is a series of vignettes that have all been inspired by the music in this playlist. Every song is in order as the vignettes will appear. This time around, Jon has just recently been promoted after the sudden death of Gertrude Robinson. Where shall his work take him?
> 
> This story takes place before Season 1.
> 
> ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

_ March 30th, 2015 _

Jon grunted as he kicked open the door to the archives and hurried to deliver his box full of office supplies and files to his office. His new office. He still couldn’t believe any of this was real. Four years spent as just a meager researcher paid off with, apparently, the job of the recently deceased Gertrude Robinson. Head Archivist. 

Jon rolled the title around in his heading, tested the weight of it on his tongue: “Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Head Archivist.” It sounded good. It felt good. It made no goddamn sense.

He hurried down the tight, green-carpeted halls of the archive, bending around dented filing cabinet and rolling trolleys full of papers until, finally, the hall cleared into a small office space that featured four empty desks and a grand wooden door pressed into the far wall. More hallways streamed out to the left and right, winding into the depths of the institute. Down one of those halls was a staircase that trailed down into extra storage. Jon had memorized every crook and cranny of the archives after Elias had called him in to give him the job. 

He stopped at one of the empty desks, put his box down with a loud exhale, and took a moment to breathe in the dusty, suffocating air. This was all… Strange. Very strange. Jon’s degree certainly wasn’t in library science or archival science, and he hadn’t the first clue what exactly Elias was expecting him to do down here. Wherever he looked he saw files out of place, some placed on top of filing cabinets and others simply just left on the floor. Rumors had been spun over just how out of sorts the archives had become during Gertrude’s reign, and Elias had gently told him that most of his work would probably involve organizing and reading statements.

Perhaps Elias just liked his work ethic? Jon did happily continue his research on into the night sometimes, and he tried his hardest to keep his workspace and his notes tidy. Certainly, an archivist would need to have that sort of disciplined in regards to their work.

Still, something didn’t feel quite right. His jubilation over getting this promotion couldn’t help but be swathed in strange webs of anxiety. Maybe it was just the way Elias had looked at him when he gave him the job that was rubbing him the wrong way. His eyes had combed Jon over hungrily with ever shared word, ever shaken hand, ever held breath. Jon felt seen in ways he couldn’t put into words. Something in him still felt off-kilter. Overanalyzed. 

He could still imagine Elias’s pale green eyes boring deep into his soul.

“Hello, Jon!” Martin said from behind. Jon gasped and whipped around, clutching the corner of the desk.

“Martin! You… Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Jon said with a scowl, shoulders hunched. Martin, though he was about six inches taller than Jon and three times as wide, seemed to shrink from Jon’s tone. His gentle face peeled into an expression of apologetic sweetness.

“Sorry, Jon, I thought you’d have heard me coming,” Martin said as he rounded the desk Jon was pressed against and settled his own box down on the one closest to the door, “How about that, huh? We’ve all got a bit of a promotion.” Jon stared at Martin, then the box, then the closed door to the office, then Martin.

“What?” He said, “Are you…?”

“Upgraded to archival assistant! Looks like I’ll be referring to you now.” Martin smiled. Jon couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open. Martin? His assistant?  _ Martin? _ The bumbling fool who spent more time making tea than researching the week’s assignment? Martin? The clumsiest oaf in the office? That Martin? Jon pursed his lips and straightened up, snatching his box off the desk. He would almost feel bad about blistering around the man who was three years his senior in terms of time spent at the institute, but Martin was a special case; he was only good for delays. Martin’s seemed to notice Jon’s reaction and his face immediately fell, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yes, well, so you will. Let’s hope you can do your job correctly,” Jon said, no, hissed, and bumbled his way up to and through the door to his new office and let it slam shut. Jon made no effort to glance back and check Martin’s reaction. He didn’t have the time too, actually, as the moment the door shut he realized he wasn’t the only one in his office. Elias sat behind his desk, fingers laced to basket his chin. The flickering fluorescents and extravagant forest green walls turned his pale skin a sickly yellow. Elias smiled, vague as ever. His eyes snapped across Jon, brimming with mysterious fascination.

“Jon, I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of straightening up in here a bit.” Elias smoothed his hand over the long oak desk, fingers catching on the various deep gouges that must be quite a few years old. The glossy leather chair tilted back as Elias leaned over to grasp a shoebox tape deck which sat precariously on the empty bookcase situated behind the desk and placed it before him, “You’ll be needing that. Some of these statements can be a bit finicky.” 

Now, whatever could that mean? Jon opened his mouth to ask that very question but was quieted by Elias’ sudden intense eye contact. He decided to sit down at one of the smaller chairs against the wall, trying not to feel too much like a child waiting to be told off by the headmaster.

“Were you the one who assigned Martin as my assistant?” Jon managed to squeak out instead, trying to keep his expression neutral, though Elias’ smirk seemed to indicate that he saw right through him. 

“Oh yes, Martin will be quite useful down here, I feel. He is incredibly personable, that will be helpful for taking down statements,” Elias stood and began to pace, arms folded neatly behind his back and chin tilted up, “I’ve also asked Sasha James and Tim Stoker to join him, I think they will be very useful for your research of these statements.”

“O-oh,” Jon mumbled, “Yes, uh. Very good, Elias, uhm, thank you.” Sasha was nice. She treated him kindly and was rather good at her job. Tim, though. He was a tall jokester type, one who could always find an appropriate pun to crack or impression to make. They had been acquainted some years ago at Jon’s first-holiday party, but they hadn’t shared more than passing small talk since then. They were… Fine. All of them together, though felt like an out-of-sorts bunch. Jon tried not to think about the implication of their assignments too hard.

“Well of course, Jon! Only the best for my new Head Archivist.” Elias cocked his head and stepped closer, eyes locked on Jon’s. Jon squirmed beneath his harrowing gaze and forced a polite smile. It was incredibly hard to not feel like uncharted territory with Elias raking his eyes over him like some bloodthirsty explorer.

“Thank you, Elias,” He managed to say through gritted teeth. Elias nodded, ever cheerful in that detached boss sort of way. He placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder and squeezed hard.

“I expect great things from you, Jon,” He purred, and left. The heavy oak door drifted shut behind him. 

“Great things,” Jon said in disbelief, staring at his sparse new office with an arm wrapped tight around his box. How much could he manage to fix down here with no archival experience and employees who seemed to be just blindly plucked from their departments? Elias’ watchful eyes still clung to his skin, a now ever-present weight on his shoulders. Jubilation and anxiety churned into endless confusion. He stood shakily and placed his box on the desk. His desk. 

“Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London,” He mumbled and began to unpack.


End file.
